


Odd Inkling

by simonh2000



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen, Salmon Run (Splatoon)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-01 07:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20254102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonh2000/pseuds/simonh2000
Summary: (Splatoon fanfic) Rumors about an inkling with an unusual mask, tentacles that face outwards, and a strange accent have begun to surface around Inkopolis. Set before the Octo Expansion, this story is a slightly darker take on the Splatoon world - from the perspective of an octoling.





	1. Inkling

The date was October 8th, 2017. A crew of inklings boarded a ship chartered by Grizzco to fight salmonids on the Ark Polaris and collect eggs for Mr. Grizz.

The inklings gathered inside the boat's main cabin to wait for arrival, but one eventually drifted away from the conversation and joined the boat captain at the aft end. The captain leaned her elbows on the back end and let out a deep sigh as the inkling approached. "Shouldn't you be with your friends? You'll get seasick if you move around too much."

As if oblivious to her comment, the inkling just silently gazed out at the puffy fog banks slowly gliding over the murky Inkopolis Bay water. As the fog drifted over to the boat, the water stung his skin and he winced, covering his face with the tin-covered workers cap.

The captain watched the inkling. Despite being short for her age, she still had at least a foot on him. She wondered why he was staying quiet, but chose to ignore it, because she didn't want to talk anyway. After all, she got her captain's license to be alone on the water, even if she had to ferry some kids to make ends meet. Still, she found it curious his tentacles had cups on the outside - that wasn't really a fashion trend she recognized.

After a while, the sun came up over the Inkopolis City skyline and the fog slowly dissipated, illuminating the water with a bright orange glow. As the captain watched, the inkling soon returned to the main cabin of the fishing boat and wordlessly sat down, falling fast asleep with his head leaned against a lifejacket.

Several hours passed before the boat came within range of the Ark Polaris ruins. The midday sunlight reflected off of the wreck's gleaming surface, brightly lighting up the group of inklings on the aft of the ship as they suited up. As soon as they superjumped away, the captain pulled out her phone to pass the time.

It took only a minute for the captain to realize something had gone wrong. Shouts echoed from the far side of the Ark and the captain could just make out the spines of a steel eel passing around the corner. She grabbed the engine and throttled it, quickly bringing the boat up to top speed and cutting through the water towards the other side of the Ark. As the far side came into view, she gasped and ran for the respawn point under the deck.

The group had been wiped. Two steel eels, a flyfish, and a steelhead circled the downed crew as they flopped helplessly in their life preservers. The captain frantically grabbed the respawn point with both hands and dragged it across the deck, getting it in position and plugging it into the generator on board. She flipped the switch on the spawn, bringing it crackling to life and causing the life preservers to launch towards the boat.

As soon as the crew resurfaced from the spawn point, a male inkling with swept-back tentacles grabbed the quiet one by the front of his shirt. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?! YOU WERE THE ROLLER, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HANDLE THE SMALL FRY! IT'S YOUR FAULT WE -"

The captain rushed over and pulled the two apart. "Stop that! No fighting on my boat!" The quiet inkling was visibly shaken, his eyes wide and shiny from the tears welling up inside them, and he stumbled backward towards the edge of the boat.

The other two inklings turned away, disgusted, and moved into the cabin. The aggressive inkling stepped away from the spawn, raising his lip in an expression of contempt as he watched the quiet inkling slide to the floor with his back against the boat's railing. "You're lucky we're not back at Inkopolis yet."

The captain scowled, and waved him away. "Go on, back in the cabin. Shoo. I'm not paid enough to deal with this crap."

By the time they made it back, night had already descended on Inkopolis. The sparkling, scattered lights of the buildings set against the pitch black sky writhed across the shifting surface of the water as the captain watched. She took out her phone and checked the time. "8:46. That's a bit ahead of schedule..."

She turned from the back of the boat and to the alleys on either side of the cabin. The inkling sat against the outside of the cabin in the fetal position with his arms folded on top of his knees and his face buried underneath. Letting out a deep sigh, she walked over and sat down next to him. "When we get to the dock, stay on board. I'll make sure they don't hurt you."

The inkling turned his head, and she could just barely make out the odd, pointy edges of his mask in the dark. She patted him on the back. "You'll be fine. It'll be OK."

The captain tied the boat to the dock and called the crew out - all three of them. They rubbed their eyes out of exhaustion and shambled off while the captain climbed back aboard. "The coast is clear. You should get going now."

The inkling walked out of the boat's far shadow, the bright fluorescent light shining on the teartracks across his face, before he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. As he passed the captain and climbed onto the dock, the captain could hear him mumbling in a weird accent - "It'll ve okay... It'll ve okay..."

Perturbed, the captain simply watched as the odd little inkling slowly faded out of sight and into the sidestreets adjoining the harbor.


	2. Walleye

The octoling stood in front of the assembled pieces of broken mirror he had found in the abandoned warehouse's bathroom, turning and changing poses to check for any faults in the discarded clothing he had scavenged that day. The navy eminence jacket nearly scraped the floor, it was so long, and he could barely see over the odd bowl-shaped pocket in the front. He pulled it up, and the hood unceremoniously draped over his face... Veem began to ponder at the purpose of this unusual invention as he stood, blinded. He soon realized, however, that it was difficult to breathe through the thick material, so, finally admitting defeat, he yanked the hood off of his face. Veem took a deep breath to fill his lungs again and held onto the countertop for stability... Maybe wearing the bowl had been a bad idea. Perhaps, he thought, the inklings might use it to store things like splat bombs during turf wars, or maybe it's some sort of camouflage - either way, this jacket was only hampering his movements, so he decided to take it off.

Veem turned to look at the rest of the completely unlit room; not dark because the lights didn't work, but instead because the lights would flicker irregularly, and that reminded him too much of the Deepsea Metro. The checker-patterned tiles in the bathroom were falling off of the walls and floor, leaving blank spaces with nothing but wavy, stucco-like adhesive. His small collection of weapons lay on a pile of tiling in the far corner of a room; his trusty octoshot, a beat-up pair of dualies, and an octobrush. Despite his experience with the octoshot, the brush was his greatest treasure - he felt the smooth wood grain on the handle's inkwell and the metal rings clamping down on the brush itself... The fact that he could swing it around violently like a bat... It was all very comforting.

A little over a month from now, a tournament would be held. Veem remembered seeing ads for it posted on walls, on TV, and even on banners pulled through the sky by planes. What really caught his attention, though, was what he saw on the big screen in Inkopolis Square. A promo video showed highlights from previous tournaments, introducing all of the inklings that had already been invited to participate. Each clip was like a whirlwind of ink, with each invitee dodging and weaving through the chaos while still managing to fight back, splatting opponent after opponent. The way they moved was so skillful and agile that it made Veem's head spin - just when it seemed like they were surrounded, they'd manage somehow to completely evade and splat their pursuers. That's when he decided that one day, he wanted to fight in a tournament like that. He held onto the handle of the octobrush and turned to the rest of the room, suddenly swinging it back and forth in front of him. Satisfied, he set the brush down against the wall again... But he wondered to himself, where was he going to find a team of inklings that accepted him, let alone wanted him to fight with them? That was impossible.

A few blocks away from Veem's hideout, a tournament qualifier turf war in Walleye Warehouse was rapidly reaching its conclusion. With only a minute left on the clock, orange ink dominated the field, and blue was almost trapped within its spawn point. The crowd in the stands booed as the blue team's splatling ducked behind the shipping container next to his spawn. His whole team wiped, the splatling peeked around the corner and tossed out a point sensor before the enemy jet squelcher sent ink flying past his cheek, forcing him back into hiding. The point sensor missed, and a giant, hot glob of explosher ink hurled over the shipping container, bursting and missing him by mere inches. Two of his teammates, a splattershot jr. and a carbon roller, respawned and jumped down to join him behind the container.

The splattershot jr. peeked out from behind cover and threw a splat bomb at the explosher, forcing him to fall back for a moment. The shot he had been lining up flew off course and towards the spawn point itself, evaporating instantly. "Alright, I bought us some time. What do we do now?"

The splatling tightly gripped the handle of his weapon. "I have only a few points left until I get my special - I can feel it. I'll use my booyah bomb as a decoy, just leave me behind and focus on taking out the explosher and the jet squelcher. We just need our charger..."

As if on cue, the team's splat charger respawned and immediately made a beeline for the left. Quickly winding up his gun, the splatling yelled "GO!" and moved out from behind cover. The orange team's luna blaster popped out of the ink next to the ramp and fired a shot towards the charger, but missed, and was soon bombarded with splatling shots. Unable to make a getaway fast enough, the luna burst into blue ink and dropped her weapon. The splatling dropped down from spawn and activated the booyah bomb, rising in the air and building up an orb of blue ink above him as the rest of his team made a desperate push forward.

Sure enough, the jet squelcher popped out from behind cover and fired at the splatling, but the shots merely bounced off the ink armor. The splattershot jr, who was cutting a path parallel to the squelcher, threw a splat bomb behind her, splatting her as she began to swim away.

The explosher was already pulling back, but the roller got to him first, swinging her weapon vertically to cut off his escape. The explosher jumped and fired at the floor in defense, but the roller brushed the spray off and slammed her weapon into his face, splatting him and sending blue ink flying. With the orange team almost completely wiped, and the midfield unguarded, the roller and splattershot jr. began to lay down as much ink as possible as the booyah bomb went off in the background.

In the meantime, the charger circled around one of the side routes, searching for the hiding fourth enemy - an octobrush. But as he turned a corner near the outskirts of the map, he heard the distinct ping! of an autobomb touching ground behind him. As he turned to look, the octobrush rose out of the ink and violently bashed the charger with his brush, splatting him and leaving the blue team's right flank unguarded. Orange team was respawning now, and explosher ink began to rain down on the center again. The jr. and the roller ducked behind the boxes in the center, throwing out a couple bombs as the splatling charged up and peeked out from the right, sending a hail of bullets towards the shipping container the explosher was camped on top of. The explosher was splatted, but not before the luna blaster dropped from above and nailed the exposed splatling with a direct shot.

With their splatling gone, and a luna blaster charging in from the right, the splattershot and the roller dropped bombs and moved off to the right - right into the octobrush's range. With the perfect shot lined up, the brush took out the splattershot and the roller, completely wiping the blue team out.

With barely five seconds left, the charger respawned and desperately fired half-charged shot after shot, trying to take back turf, but a burst bomb to the face pushed him back behind the shipping container once again. He threw out a splat bomb in retaliation, but to no avail... As the whistle that marked the end of the match blew, he dropped to his knees and held his head in his hands. "It... It was my fault! Cod, how did I let my team down like that...?!"


	3. Storm

_Thank you guys for your support. This is the last one I have fully completed, so it might take a day or two before I get another out._

Rain pattered off the corrugated metal roof of the warehouse, awakening Veem to the pitch black room around him. Not recognizing the unusual sound, he pushed the collection of heavy comforters he had been nesting under away from himself and slowly got to his feet. He felt his way to the nearest wall and followed it, leaning against the smooth, bumpy tiles to keep his bearings. Soon he made it to the main room of the warehouse, with its vaulted, barn-like ceiling and high windows. The rain was louder here, and he could see it running off the outside of the windows like teartracks, distorting the light from the LED streetlamp outside and casting strange, writhing shadows on the opposite ceiling.

Veem was shaking from fear at this new phenomenon, but he was able to work up the courage to cross over to the warehouse door. After moving some of the metal he had barricaded it with, the rustling sound of the rain outside became much clearer. The sound drowned out even the beating of his own heart as he pulled the door open and peered outside at the rain-swept street. The sweet smell of ozone blew past him, carried by the violent winds battering the warehouse. Rain flashed by the LED streetlamp, each droplet lighting up as they aimlessly flew past like sparks. Small rivers of water flowed past on either side of the street, which bore a crude reflection of the city above it, it's multi-colored lights and shadowy towers rippling over the pavement. He watched in awe of the scene, barren of any living creatures beaides himself. Where was all this water falling from... The sky? After thinking for some time, he realized this was the perfect opportunity to visit Ammo Knights, because there was no risk of bumping into the inklings from the salmon run when they were likely all hiding from the storm inside.

Grabbing the money he had scrounged up, some metal sheets to use as an umbrella, and the navy eminence jacket to shield himself, Veem prepared to brave the storm. At first, the wind almost blew him backwards, ramming into the metal like a parachute - but he soon discovered that he could avoid being blown by angling the metal against the wind. He gripped the makeshift umbrella with both hands and moved ahead, determined to get to his destination, no matter how difficult it would be.

Moving past darkened windows and empty alleyways, Veem eventually made it to Inkopolis Square. At first the dark and empty look of it all gave off an eerie vibe to him, but he soon felt comforted by it... After all, an empty square meant no inklings to deal with. He approached the Ammo Knights, setting down the metal against the window and peering inside. It was dark - he didn't see anyone inside, but he was sure it wasn't late enough to close yet... Maybe they closed during the rain, because of how dangerous it was? He began knocking on the glass, just to make sure.


	4. Lotta

The clouds that morning loomed over the distant oceanic horizon, blotting out the rising sun and bathing Inkopolis in a cold blue glow. The Square was empty, like most mornings, but Lotta still had to work. As she crossed the Square, she pushed a chair back into place at its table, scraping the metal along the blacktop and scaring off a resting pigeon in the process. She reached the door to ammo knights and pressed her shoulder into it, slowly pushing it open and entering the store.

It was rather empty and quiet inside. Turf war weapons and weapon parts hung on slatwalls all around the store, and inside the glass display case that served as a counter. As Lotta looked around, a pale green shell popped up from behind the counter. "Hello, hello! What kind of weapon a - ?"

"Oh, cod!" Lotta yelped, leaping a few feet back from the counter.

The face under the shell adjusted the strange goggles on the front of its face before saying, "Oh, Lotta! Is that you? I thought it was a bit early for a customer to show up!"

Lotta placed a webbed hand over her heart and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank cod, Sheldon, you really gave me a shock... Yes, it's me."

"That's a surprise... Well, your punctuality could use some work. It's an hour later than we agreed upon, so I don't have much time to show you the ropes..." He looked around the shop, wringing his hands with a frown on his face. "It's likely you already have experience with this sort of thing, given your family's history, so I'll make it snappy: if a customer asks about a weapon, use the info cards behind the desk to explain their function. If they want to test out the weapon, lead them through the backrooms to the testing area _after_ you lock up the store. You know your way around a cash register, right?"

"I-I do."

"That's all, then. I have some other business I need to take care of. Good luck." Sheldon walked out from behind the counter, carrying what appeared to be a walky talky in one hand, and a clipboard in the other.

"W-wait..."

With one hand on the door, Sheldon turned to face Lotta. "What?"

"What do I do if there are other people in the store when someone wants to test out a weapon?"

"Ask the squids that aren't testing out a weapon to leave for a few minutes." He turned back and began to push the door before he stopped again, continuing, "Be _polite_ about it, though."

Veem pressed his face against the cold, wet glass, peering inside the chalky darkness of the shop. Knocking on the door with one hand, he kept watching for any sort of movement inside the shop... but to no avail. Was it later than he thought? He had fallen asleep early that morning after a whole night of rummaging through trash bins and dumpsters, so it didn't seem likely to be that late, but perhaps the stores closed early during storms...? He braced himself against the rain with his umbrella and moved along the building to check the next store, only to find it unlit as well.

He slumped against the door, resting the metal against his chest and allowing the jacket to engulf him. With his face pressed in the hood, Veem closed his eyes and waited. Maybe he couldn't go in today, but if he could wait until the next morning then he might be able to get in before anyone else.

Sheltered against the storm by the roof's overhang, his jacket, and the scrap metal, Veem fell into a shallow, feverish sleep.


End file.
